


Swipes of Sword and Fan

by rex101111



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Tagged for future chapters, in so much that I know very little of GG canon and at this point have very little desire to dig in, more characters too later on but for now here's this, this is just a place to dump short dumb ideas with these two, this was inspired by a comment by Shockcakes go pat him on the back, vaguely canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-06-28 17:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15711957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rex101111/pseuds/rex101111
Summary: (Alternative title: Anji And His Murder Wife, The Misadventures.)Baiken just wanted to kill Gears, Anji just wanted her to be safe. No one gets what they asked for.Brief glimpses into the lives of Baiken and Anji as they travel through the colonies and beyond, may or may not include: Bar Fights, Getting stuck in the Rain, Near Death Experiences, Incredibly vague confessions, Nightmares, an angry Samurai lady, Fancy dinners, make out sessions and more!





	1. Whistles and Restraint.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shockcakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shockcakes/gifts).



> okay so I have a bunch of short story ideas for these two since Guilty Gear has kinda been dominating my head lately, so this is a place to dump all those things without crowding my stories overly much. This is a bit silly but later chapter might be a bit...darker since this IS Baiken we're talking about. That archive warning ain't just for show ya know.

"I'm going to kill them Anji."

Anji vaguely realized that that sentence should have probably surprised him, terrified him even, but all he could muster was a patient and understanding sigh.

"And you would be well within your right to do so; still I ask that you don't."

"And why the _fuck_ not?"

"Because doing our jobs while behind bars would be _very_ inconvenient."

Baiken clicked her tongue at him, but seemed to comply with his request, resolutely walking away from the jeers and wolf whistles thrown her way by the trio of drunk louts a few feet behind them.

One of them, with a muscular build but with a face better suited for a bull than a person, took a swig of his drink and shouted a bit louder, "C'MON BABY! LEAVE THAT SCRAWNY PUKE AND LET ME SHOW YOU A BETTER TIME!"

Baiken's knuckles turned white as she gripped her sword ever tighter, "I," She breathed harshly between her teeth, "am going to _fucking_ kill them Anji."

Anji put a hand on her left shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, "They are not worth it dear." He said tightly yet calmly, moving his fingers in slow circles where they rested, "Neither your time or your skill should be wasted on the likes of them."

" _I BET HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO TREAT THOSE AMAZING FUNBAGS OF YOURS_ _DOES HE?!"_

Baiken growled, "What if I _want_ to waste them?"

Anji took a deep breath, squeezing Baiken's shoulder again to bring her focus back onto him, "Please Baiken, they're just a bunch of idiots that don't know their ass from a hole in the ground."

Despite all the odd, Baiken chuckled a bit, as she tended to do when Anji decided to stop talking like a frumpy housewife and more like…well, more like _her._ "I know that, they're still pissing me off."

"Same for me." He says lowly, his eyebrow twitching, "But still, there's no need to fly off the-"

" _I CAN PAY MORE BABY! JUST NAME THE PRICE FOR THAT FINE ASS AND I'M YOURS."_

Anji stopped, his mouth snapping shut as he clenched his free hand, his eye twitching.

Baiken raised an eyebrow at him, waiting.

After a moment, Anji sighed and took Baiken's sword, "Just a few broken bones alright?"

Baiken's other eyebrow rose, "Still showing restraint huh?" She let out a short laugh, "You're impressive when you want to be."

Anji waved her off, "I'll hold on to your sword, dear." He gave her an indulgent, and only very slightly sadistic, smile, "You just go there and… _express yourself properly_ to those gentleman."

 Baiken bared all her teeth in a feral snarl and turned to walk towards the drunk trio, cracking her knuckles on the side of her neck, her geta clacking harshly against the stone road.

Anji vaguely realized that what he did _might_ have been a bit of a bad idea.

"Hey baby! Glad to see finally grew some sens-"

**_CRASH!_ **

_"OH GOD HE WENT THROUGH THE WAL-OH PLEASE NOT THE FACE!"_

Then again, it was always fun to watch her work.

" _THAT DOES NOT BEND THAT WAY-ARGGH!!!"_

It was good to see her release pent anger in such a productive way.

" _I'M SORRY PLEASE DON'T- **AHHHH!** "_

The smile and thumbs up she sent his way once she was done was cute too, so that was a plus.

(The small kiss to his cheek went he bent down to give her back her sword was also a nice bonus.)


	2. Indulgence and Expenses

Sake was worth its weight in gold in the colonies. Soon after the destruction of Japan, every person who had survived and managed to flee was desperate for any reminder of the past, any remnant of culture of the rising sun they could find and hoard.

Yen Coins, Katana, Kimonos, and Sake. To the last generation of _nihonjin_ , they, and many others, represented what was left of their history, of their family's history.

Even more than a century later, the sentiment remained, though now most only valued these things for the prestige they granted.

The first three Baiken could understand on instinct; money made the world go round and Yen could be traded for a good amount of World Dollars, the weight of her blade at her waist was of the few things keeping her alive, and only a fool braves the world without any fucking clothes on.

Appreciating sake, that took a bit of convincing.

When she was younger, fresh off the destruction of her home and her family and loss of her limb and eye, she considered alcohol a fool's indulgence. A thing that dulls the senses and addicts the mind.

As she grew older, and her heart grew harder and harder, she found herself downing more and more of the rice wine.

She hardly tasted it, most of the time. More often than not she would chug it down and focus on the numbing of her mind instead of the tingle in her throat. For all she drank of the stuff over her long life she could hardly tell a finely aged vintage from basement-brewed moonshine.

(The designs of the bottles were a different matter; Baiken could appreciate that just fine.)

Filling the gourd on her hip always took a big bite out of whatever money she scrounged up, rice was a sensitive plant not easily cultivated and people were loath to part with it without due compensation.

So it was a significant surprise when Anji took her to a bar and ordered a bottle of the most expensive sake they owned.

"Did you go senile?" She hissed after he made the order, "That shit will set us back _two months_ of mercenary work!" She slammed her hand on the table, spooking the nearby patrons that weren't drunk off their asses, "Just order the cheap shit and be done with it!"

Anji only offered a calm smile, "Can’t I spoil you every now and again?"

Baiken growled, though a faint red tinted her face, "I'm not some princess Anji, I can get drunk just _fine_ without needing something aged in horse shit for a decade."

"I don't think that's how they do it."

"Not the point!"

A petite waitress stepped up with a tray, "Here's your order!" She put down the bottle, a wide and tall thing of black and gold , on their table. The name "Masamune" emblazoned proudly on the front with bold red lettering in both English and Japanese.

Baiken blinked at the name for a second before shaking her head, "Naming booze after a master swordsmith, what a fucking disgrace…"  She looked at Anji with narrowed eyes, "You can't be serious."

"Don't worry," Anji laughed, "it's only coming out of my share, and I had plenty saved up."

"Anji…" She sighed and rubbed her face, "Fine! Whatever," she rubbed her eyes, "it's your fucking money."

Anji smiled as he poured out a glass for the both of them, raising his glass for a toast, "To safe travels."

Baiken rolled her eye and clinked her glass with his, "And dead Gears."

Anji laughed, "And happy birhdays!"

Baiken nodded absentmindedly as she raised the glass to her mouth, "Yeah yeah, and to-" She stopped short and whipped her head to stare at him, "Shit, is it your birthday!?"

Anji blinked at her a few times before shaking his head, "No Baiken," He used the hand holding the glass to point to her, "it's _yours."_

 "It is!?"

Anji was conflicted on whether to feel bad or laugh his ass off, so he settled for shaking his head again with a smile, "5th of March Baiken, happy birthday."

Baiken blinked owlishly a few times, looking back and forth between Anji and her glass of _hilariously_ expensive sake, before her shoulder sagged in an embarrassed sigh as she brought the glass to her mouth again, "Well, happy fucking birthday to me…"

"You're welcome."

She hummed vaguely as she slowly took a sip, before downing the rest in an unhurried manner, "Huh, not too damn bad." She glanced in Anji's direction, "You better not be expecting anything half as fancy as this next year for _your_ birthday."

Anji grinned with all of his teeth, "Your company is the best gift you can give me."

Baiken barked out a laugh and motion with her empty glass, Anji's grin didn't budge an inch as he filled it back up.

(Anji ended up not having enough money so Baiken took a hefty bite out of her money and cuffed him on the back of the head for it. She still kept the bottle though.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so soon after the first??? what can I say the angry samurai lady inspires me :D


	3. Rain and Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bit more graphic and dark then the last two, I think finally earning that m-rating ^^; ye be warned and so on

The roof of the aging metal gazeebo rattled loudly above them, heavy rain pelting it without cease as they sat and waited for the downpour to stop, or at least lessen.

Around them, marks of combat scarred what was once a park not a few hours ago, trees charred and ripped from the ground roots and all, stone walkways and roads slashed and riddled with bullet holes and scorch marks. Around them the smoking and bleeding corpses of Gears lied motionless, some with limbs missing and holes large enough to fit your head through dotting the bodies of the larger ones.

Baiken took a slow, methodical drag from her wood and metal pipe, her eyes following the smoke raising to gather at the roof.

Anji closed his eyes, listening to the chaotic cadence of the rain.

 Baiken's kimono had a few cuts along the legs and shoulder, and her hair looked scorched in places. One of the lenses of Anji's glasses was slightly cracked. Otherwise, they were no worse for wear, ready to head out and reach their next destination as soon as the rain decide to turn to drizzle.

"Been a while since we had rain like this," Anji said mildly, just loud enough to be heard over the raindrops, "there'll be a good harvest this year, don't you think?"

Baiken didn't say a word, only puffed out another cloud of smoke and watched it drift upwards, her eye very far away.

 Anji cracked one of his eyes open to glance at her, he held his gaze for long minute, his heartbeat drowned by the rain, before he looked askance at the destruction they left behind.

The park was relatively modest, both in size and in scenery, but it was a nice change of pace from crowded villages and dirty cities. It even had a small pond with ducks and fish in it for the park goers to fawn over and feed.

(Convincing Baiken to part with even a tiny part of her loaf of bread was like pulling teeth, though worth it to see a sparrow land on her shoulder as she bent down to give her offering to duckling. It still surprised him she waited a whole minute before shooing the bird away.)

A bisected corpse of a Gear was floating in the pond, staining the water a sickly red. Dead fish and birds littered the waters along with it, a few bigger fish found themselves tangled in the hanging guts of the monster.

Anji's stomach stayed where it was, it did not lurch and he felt no desire to empty it into the gazeebo. Which was just as well, Baiken would have kicked him out into the rain if he did.

"You think the rest of the people made it out alright?"

"Who knows?"

(The words were not unkind or cruel. A few years ago, he suspects her answer would have been, "Who cares?")

There were not a lot of other park goers that day, an old couple on a bench, a boy catching butterflies while his mother kept watch, a family having a picnic. An old man sharing old loafs of bread to give to the birds and fish in the pond.

A lump was not stuck in Anji's throat, and his eyes did not water.  

"It was raining then too." Baiken muttered, somehow carrying over the rain, "Even heavier than now."

(Smoke in the air, blood on his face and flooding the streets.

People crying and screaming.

Dozens and dozens crowding the makeshift field hospital, nurses rushing back and forth to tend to as many people as they could, giving priority to those in dire need.

Unless you were all but dying on your cot, you were not in dire need.

He had a broken arm splinted and held in place by a thin piece of cloth, a head wound cleaned and dressed with little concern for his comfort or age. He still had blood on his face, not his blood.

He sat next to girl with a bloody stump for a right arm, and half her face covered in gauze, the spot where her left eye should be was a growing red circle beneath the bandage.

They were the only two people who could draw breath in that hospital and didn't use it to scream or sob.

He focused his gaze on his bare feet, her eye blazed at some distant spot directly in front of her.

"I'm going to kill them all." She said, voice clear and sharp and burning and addressing no one who could hear her, "Every last one of them, every single one of them."

He did not need to ask whom, did not dare to ask _how_.)

"Yes," He said, a second after she finished speaking, "nearly flooded the town."

"Or what was left of it."

A second passed, he nodded his head soundlessly, and closed his eyes again to listen to the rain.

Baiken took a deep breath from her pipe, blowing the smoke out into the downpour.

(They sat there for a long while before the rain slowed enough to walk through; the sound of their shoes hitting blood soaked mud was louder than the drizzle. His hand found hers between their umbrellas; she grasped him hard enough to hurt. He didn't say a word.)


	4. Late Nights and Compassion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a semi-fluffy thing to make up for that vague angst thing from the last chapter:D

Late at night, a commotion rumbled from the inside of a seedy looking bar. A decrepit sign baring the name "Broken tooth" donated it as the sort of place people of ill repute and foul reputation looked for a drink.

A fight breaking out in that sort of bar, even at such a late hour, was not unheard of by any stretch.

The fact that the noises of the fight stopped abruptly, punctuated by a series of high-pitched yelps, on the other hand, was more notable.

A few beats of silence followed the sudden stop of the fight before Baiken kicked open the doors to the bar with all the grace of a sleep-deprived rhino, one of them ripped clean off its hinges and landing on the street with a crash, startling a few late night pedestrians who were passing by.

Baiken adjusted the nearly limp Anji draped over her shoulder, her left hand holding his right, with a canyon deep scowl, before making a sharp right turn and stomping her may down the street, people clearing her path three whole steps before she reached them.

The difference in height between the two made the situation much more amusing for any who happened to glimpse them, though few dared to laugh for fear the angry looking one-armed samurai would hear them.         

Anji blinked his eyes a few times, his vision unfocused, "Baiken," He started, his voice mildly slurred, "Where are my glasses?" 

"In my pocket." Baiken muttered darkly, "They fell off your dumb face when you slipped on your robe."

"Oh, right." He was quiet for a moment, before rubbing the back of his head with an apologetic, and still slightly drunk, smile, "Guess I should have watched my step huh?"

"What you _should_ have done," She muttered again, "was mind your damn business when that fight started."

"They were ganging up on that poor guy Baiken."

She scoffed in mixed annoyance and affection, "Never would have pegged you for a compassionate drunk."

"I am full of surprises my dear." He declared with a lopsided smile, "And besides, I only drank about 5 glasses."

"Ten."

"Ah, must have lost count."

Baiken scoffed again, and paired it with a shake of her head as she attempted to adjust Anji's position again so he could walk with a bit more ease.

Anji looked askance at Baiken for a moment, before letting out an intrigued hum.

"What?"

"Why didn't you try to help before I drew their attention?"

"Because I don't care Anji." She stared ahead at the cold, empty street between her and the cheap room two of them rented for the night, her voice level and calm, "You know that."

"I most certainly do _not._ " The booze has seemed to give him a new level of nerve, sober Anji would never voice such things, and Baiken was disturbed to realize she was _missing_ sober Anji, "You care a great deal, about a lot of things."

"I don't care about _people_ , especially _drunk_ people."

"Really now?" He asked with a laugh, vaguely motioning at their current situation, "And what do you call _this_ then? I'd say you care a great deal about _me_ at least."

"You're not _people_ ," She growled impulsively, a headache growing from somewhere behind her eyepatch, very pointedly _not_ looking at him as a warmth crept up her neck, "You're _Anji."_

A few moments passed as Anji looked at her in utter shock, his legs dragging behind him as she kept stomping forward for a couple more steps before she stopped and whipped her head to look at him, mouth open to shout at him to move his drunk ass.

Her jaw snapped shut as she took in his gaze, cheeks flushed, surprised, grinning like a fool.

It took another second or two before she fully realized what she had said, a second more after that for the warmth on her neck to invade her cheeks as her face flushed at her slip.

"Never pegged _you_ for a _romantic_ drunk dear."

 She growled, her blush growing a bit darker, "I _swear_ if you breathe a _word_ of this to anyone I'll-!"

Whichever, probably very cleaver, threat Baiken was about to throw Anji's way was lost in her throat as his lips met hers in a clumsy yet gentle kiss, his free hand cupping her flushed cheek as her shoulders lost their tension and sagged down.

"Don't worry," Anji said lowly as their lips separated, giving her a sleepy smile, "I'm probably drunk enough that I won't even remember this in the morning."

Baiken smirked kindly at him, "Tch, you better hope you are, or I'll-"

Again, Anji interrupted Baiken, though this time he did so by vomiting on her shoes.

He lost consciousness soon after, forcing Baiken to carry him across her shoulder like an overstuffed sack of potatoes.  She cleaned his mouth and put him under the covers with minimal ceremony.

She felt mildly vindicated the next morning when his hangover eclipsed hers by a fair margin. She offered him coffee and was only _slightly_ disappointed when it turned out he actually forgot.

(Anji, now properly sober, wisely choose not to comment on the dour mood Baiken carried all morning. Sober Anji knew to mind his damn business and drink his coffee.)  


	5. Clouds and Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longest one so far! and a jealousy story, because every drabble collection needs one

Anji may not be the biggest fan of heights, nor did he have much love for the methods of traveling that involved being very ( _very **very oh dear loving Buddha**_ ) high up in the air, nor was he a fan of the air ship he was currently _on._ (The various crude drawings of aquatic life on most of the walls and hull was tacky at best)

 At the very least, he could appreciate the view. White clouds stretched far and wide in every direction, racing past as the ship soared through the sky in the direction of llyria, he and Baiken having been invited by the first king Ky Kisuke for a report on the colonies, the ground a rushing smear of brown and green far ( _far **far**_ ) below.

In the interest of not wasting the generous meal the crew of the "Mayship" prepared for Baiken and himself, Anji extracted himself from the window and began walking back to the dinner hall.

As much as he would rather jump off this godforsaken hunk of metal and become a little stain on the jagged rocks below then go back to the sight of the _captain_ flirting with Baiken.

He respected Johnny well enough, both for his actions in support of the colonies and his strength he displayed in the whole "Valentine" fiasco, but if he saw the man looking at Baiken with that _smirk_  (especially when looking _there_ when Baiken looked away) for one minute more he was going to take the man's sunglasses and shove them down his throat.

(The lone samurai was rubbing off on him; if she ever found out, she would never let it go.)

He stopped outside the door to take a deep, centered breath before he entered, his face a polite display of calm. A display that faltered for a quick second when he caught sight of Baiken laughing gruffly at something or other that the _esteemed and venerable_ captain of the Mayship said.

Anji walked around the room, the corner of his eye always on the two seated together, and his steps probably a mite louder then was strictly necessary, which had the side effect of catching the attention of one of the pirate crew who was cleaning the tables, "Oh! Hey Mr. Mito! Need anything?"

Johnny and Baiken looked in his direction, the pirate with a carefree smile and the samurai with a raised brow. Anji hesitated for a moment before giving the younger girl a polite smile, "Oh no, I'm alright dear I'm just," He glanced at the two again, noticing that the captain's shaded eyes dipped a bit lower than they should; "I'm just…walking around."

"You sure? I could get Leap to cook something special for you-"

"Sephy!" Johnny scolded lightly, "Don't bother him, Anji's a grown man, he can take care of himself just fine until we land in Ilyria," A kind smile was directed his way, "Right?"

The captain's tone was jovial and joking, not patronizing or malicious in anyway and yet Anji found himself suppressing the urge to grind his teeth, "Of course Mr. Sfondy," He forced a grin on his face, "Which reminds me! How soon will we land?"

"Heh, still a bit sky sick huh?" Johnny intoned with a friendly smile that made Anji want to punch him, "We'll dock in about 4 hours or so, don't worry."

"Good," Anji muttered tightly, the polite smile on his face not quiet reached the rim of his glasses, "I will retreat to my quarters than, if it's all the same to you."

Johnny shrugged easily, "Suit yourself my man."

"I will."

As soon as he stepped out into the hallway, he began stomping in earnest, his mind whirling at the memory of Baiken eating, drinking, laughing, and _smiling_ with that self-important Robin Hood wannabe of a pirate. She had shown reluctance about boarding his ship, chiefly because of the captain's history of _flirting_ (Anji had to commend his courage if nothing else) with her.

He had foolishly pointed out that going by ship was the fastest way to Ilyria, and now he had wished he had not and _walked_ the damn way instead.

He needed a drink.

"Anji!"

He stopped mid angry stride to look behind him, the sight of Baiken resolutely stomping her way to him with a supremely annoyed look on her face making him gulp despite his mounting frustration.

She walked until she stood at his side, placing Anji between herself and the wall, effectively trapping him, "Alright," She started without bothering to hide her displeasure. "What crawled up your ass and took a great big shit?"

He smiled; her blunt statement making it a bit warmer then Anji thought would be possible, it still did not reach his eyes, "I assure you Baiken, I am perfectly fine."

"Oh really?" She said, utterly unconvinced, "Because last I checked, your eyes weren't that _green."_

Anji opened his mouth to refute further, but his jaw snapped shut when Baiken shot him a _look_ , a look that roughly translated to ' _for the love God don't bullshit me'_ , so he sighed and decided to cut to the chase, "I think you… _understated_ Mr. Sfondi's… _affection_ for you."

Baiken didn't look surprised, having apparently figured that out herself on the way (Anji guessed as much), but her glare did soften a bit as she sighed. She looked up, right into his eyes, "What are you?"

Anji blinked in confusion, "What are you-"

"You seemed to have forgotten what you are." She continued, as if he didn't speak, she reached her hand up to catch the back of his neck, bringing him down to her level, "Let me remind you."

Their lips met, soft at first, before quickly growing heated, Baiken pushing him against the cold metal wall as lips smacked together and their tongues writhed on top of each other. For a long minute, all thoughts of the captain and his nerve flew out of Anji's head; all he could think of was Baiken's hand on his neck and Baiken's lips on his and _Baiken Baiken Baiken._

Baiken leaned back and rested her forehead on his, a bit out of breath, "You," she started, her eye burning into him, "Are _mine._ " A shiver went down his spine, his gaze refused to budge an inch from her, a dopey smile lit up his face, " _Mine,_ do you understand?"

"Yours," He said, breathlessly, devotedly, cut down and at her mercy, "Yours, _always yours."_

Baiken smiled again, softer, kinder, and brighter than anything he saw her do when talking to _him_ , "I only need one arm," She said lowly, just loud enough to hear, "One eye, one blade, and one _Anji."_ Her head rose from his, one eyebrow climbing a few inches on her face, "Alright?"

Anji breathed, calm, deep, and untroubled, though a little embarrassed, "Okay."

Baiken nodded, and leaned off Anji so he could extract himself from the wall, "Good." She rolled her shoulders, "I'm gonna go rest before we land, you joining me?"

Anji laughed a little, "In a bit, going to grab myself a cup of tea first," He smiled softly at her, "You want one?"

"Sure," She said airily, "You know how I like it."

Anji laughed before turning to make his way back to the kitchen.

"Also," Baiken called out before she went out of earshot, "If you see him, tell that half assed pirate that if I catch him looking at my tits again, I'll shove his stupid hat so far up his ass he'll choke on it."

Anji laughed all the way to the teapot.

(When they landed, Anji made a show of him draping an arm over Baiken's shoulder, which she requited by leaning against him slightly. Johnny, to his credit, only smiled and gave an encouraging wink.)


	6. Fire and Grass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every third chapter in this drabble collection will be at least a little angsty! keep in mind yeah?

The world is burning.  

The sky above her head is glowing red and the ground under her feet is naught but dark soot and ash. She is on her knees, her weapons strewn around her in disarray, bent, broken, and _useless_. All she can do is lay there, lay there and look up into the pitiless eyes of her enemy.

It is tall, large enough to reach out a hand and crush the sun in its grip. It could be ripping the world in two, but instead it focuses its attention on _her_ , this ant at its feet that thought steel and gunpowder could cut down a _god._

The rage and hatred in her heart refuse to let her cower, they light a fire as intense as to dwarf the blaze around her. She glares with all her might at the monster, gritting her teeth and clenching her only fist.

On the head of the monster stand a man-no _a coward-_ and with a wave of his hand the monster- _his monster-_ moves.

Gleaming and flawless white and blue armor lurches forward, blood red mane swings in the gale brought on by the inferno.

A monstrous limb the size of house rises, and begins to descend upon her, the air whistling as it rushes aside.

Suddenly, her clenched hand is not empty, instead in her palm lays a broken wooden fan, blood and burn marks cover what is left.

The hand is close. The descent is slow, what should have been a second stretches long just before it reaches her.

She closes her eye.

She is awake.

She is on her back, her head propped up on something soft. Her back tickled by a multitude of grass blade. A moment later and her mind snaps awake completely.

They are in a village, a modest place where farmers spend their days tending to corn and rice. They reached this place in the early morning when Anji suggested they stop and rest.  

 They picked, or rather, _Anji_ picked and dragged her, a large grassy hill half a mile off from the village proper. He promptly sat down on his knees, opened up his parasol for shade, and patted his lap for her to lay her head.

She sent him a glare that could have cut through concrete, judging by how Anji flinched.

But still he insisted, saying that she didn't have enough sleep and that he didn't have enough time to meditate, and that this suggestion of his was perfect for both. Tired and unwilling to spend energy to argue for an inn, she relented.

Looking up, Anji's face is serene and unflinching. The same as it was when she first laid her head down and right before the exhaustion she didn't knew she had dragged her under. She knew that she didn't jolt awake from her nightmare, all she did was snap her eye open and stared straight up, right into a clear blue sky.

Still, her heart thundered in her chest, her breathing shallow and quick. Her eye darted this way and that, unsure of her own mind, thinking that this vision of peace before her to be a trick of a dying spirit trying to comfort itself before the end.

A hand threaded through the hair at the crown of her head, the long pink strands free from her usual ponytail. The motion is slow, gentle and familiar. Slowly, she turns her one eye to gaze at Anji again, seeing him peering down through half lidded eyes.

She is confused by his lack of glasses for a moment, before she remembers he took them off to lay them by her feet along with her eyepatch.

Anji continues his ministrations for a short while, Baiken's breathing slowly winding down as her heartbeat evens out. She closes her eye again and takes a breath, "How long has Justice been dead?"

"Eight years."

"Where are we?"

"China, about 30 miles from the Vietnamese border."

She stops; a flock of sparrow passes overhead, a dozen small shadows racing past.

"Is this a dream?"

"No." He places a hand on her cheek, moving a finger over the long scar going through her eye, "Do you want to go back to sleep?"

She leans into his palm for a moment, breathes him in, "What time is it?"

Anji looks up at the sun, tilting his head in thought, "About 1 in the afternoon, I'd say."

She nods, and turns her head so her nose buries itself in the cloth covering his midsection, "Wake me in two hours, we still have ground to cover."

He chuckles gently, "Alright."

His hand stays on her head, slowly and gently moving through her hair, and then he starts singing. It is an old song, older than the both of them put together, older than all of _this_ , and she focuses her mind on the soft notes and nostalgic lyrics as her mind once more drifts off.

(She dreams of an endless stretch of grass, where she lays her head in his lap as he sings for her. Around her the world flows between green and blue and white. There are no Gears to slay, no coward to hunt. They are safe.

The smile this pulls from her later scares her infinitely more than the monster.)  


	7. Money and Honor

"Is it just me, or are these guys weaker than the bounty would have us believe?"

Anji takes half a step right, not looking in the direction of the angry looking bandit attacking him as his rusty mace rushed past his head and lands harmlessly in a wall.

"What do you expect? Villagers are super jumpy in this part of the colonies; every little band of thieves might as well be a vicious band of marauders."

Baiken said all this as she used her sword to block the mad swings of a battle axe being wielded by a another bandit twice her height, her arm moving the blade a few inches every time to masterfully deflect each blow as it raced towards her.

"But at this rate if we actually charge full price for these guys, I'll feel bad for a whole week."

Anji took another half step to dodge a frankly embarrassing punch from his would be opponent, using a closed fan to strike at his neck, and grabbing the soon limp body and placing it gently on the ground all in one motion.

"Feel bad then, it's their money to throw away, who are we to judge?"

Baiken sliced the battle-axe into a clutter of metal shards, twisting her right shoulder to shoot out her club. The metal hit her opponent on the side of the jaw, and several teeth flew out as his head snapped aside. She turned away as the body hit the ground with a loud thud to face two more bandits, both of them shaking in their boots.

"So we just preform high way robbery on these people? Have you no honor?"

Anji twisted his body this way and that in and out of three attackers, fluidly blocking, parrying and striking back in a manner more akin to a dance than fighting. He stops with a flourish of fans, his enemies falling to their knees with pained moans, their bodies covered in bruises.

"Honor and two mon might buy you a half decent cup of tea Anji, we can't afford to be generous, not if we want to keep ourselves fed."

Baiken slowly sheathed her katana, gazing directly at the last bandit, his forehead pressed to the floor as he muttered pathetic pleas for mercy surrounded by the three dozen beaten bodies of his allies.

Anji didn't reply, tapping his chin with the tip of a closed fan as the bandits groaned in pain around them. He hummed in thought for a few moments, absentmindedly kicking a bandit that tried to reach for a knife between the ribs, before turning to face Baiken properly, "Why don't we help with the repairs to the village? If we undo the damage these criminals caused, the villagers would get their money's worth!"

Baiken scowled at him for a long second, "You're not letting this go, are you?"

Anji shrugged with a light smile.

Baiken groaned, "Fine, if it'll stop you from hounding me about this for the next month," She pointed a finger at him with a snarl when he opened his mouth, " _And don't pretend like you wouldn't!_ " Anji wisely decided to keep quiet. "Then  _fine._ " She scoffed with a shake of her head, "Never pegged you for a bleeding heart."

"I'm not, I just have this thing about earning my pay."

Baiken clicked her tongue, "Well if  _that's_  your problem, you can  _earn your pay_  by carrying these losers back to the village." She kicked the pleading bandit in the head without looking at him, raising her eyebrow at her companion. "I'm not throwing my back for this job any more than I have to."

Anji grinned, and with a flick of his wrist the fan in his hand grow to a considerable size and floated in mid-air.

"….Cheating bastard."

(They did end up helping to fix the village, and the sight of Baiken on a roof with a hammer in her hand and nails in her teeth as she put roof tiles back in place was an image he would treasure for a long while.

The look she had while throwing the hammer at his head when she noticed him staring, a bit less so.)


	8. Shoes and Pity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took a bit of a break, but now I come back with a slightly longer one! :D....that no one will read because GG is super niche and this pairing even moreso BUT STILL ENJOY! ;D

Baiken can tie her own shoelaces.

That sentence by itself may not make that ability sound very momentous, and Baiken would be inclined to agree. But when one takes into account that Baiken lost an arm when she was about seven years old, and that the arm she had left (pun not intended _dammit)_ wasn't even her good one, might make it sound a mite more impressive. (If you heard it from Anji anyway, but Baiken doesn't put much stock into biased opinions.)

Point is, Baiken can tie her own shoelaces. It took a few years of walking around in wooden sandals, lots of bullheaded stubbornness and refusal to try zippers while she practiced, but she could do it just fine.

It takes her a bit longer, but she compensates by getting up a bit earlier than everyone else does. The fact that her footwear these days were a pair of one lace boots that only went half way up her calf also helped.

They provided good enough protection to her feet both when walking and in combat, they were less likely to be knocked off in a fight as well, and she could lace them up with one hand in about a minute each.

At least, that was the standard.

Baiken's shaking fingers were making it a bit more difficult than she was used to.

Her and Anji were having a bit of a slump lately, apparently their reputation had spread far ahead of them and most petty criminals, on which they made their living, went deep underground, thus depriving the two of them of any income.

Less money, which meant less food.

Baiken was fine with that, she once went a whole two months without any fresh food, she went through worse, through _infinitely_ worse, she can stand to not eat for a few weeks.

Now if only her fingers would _stop trembling_.

"…Are you alright Baiken?"

She stops, doesn't move an inch, before he shoulders sag with a sigh, "You're up a bit early."

"Your cursing woke me up."

She clicks her tongue and goes back to trying to tie her shoe, not looking in Anji's direction, "You better not be expecting an apology."

He chuckles, she can imagine him rubbing his eyes, "An apology? From you?" He laughs a bit louder, she can picture the stupid grin on his face that goes with it, "I would never dream of insulting you like that."

She clicks her tongue again, too busy with her unlaced boot to continue their early morning back and forth, a few more muttered curses grinding out between her teeth, the sound of Anji getting up and putting on his kimono serving as white noise.

"…do you need help?"

"No."

The answer is sharp and quick, as automatic as the beat of her heart. Help was a thing _other_ people needed, help was a thing _Baiken_ offered when it suited her, she went her whole damn _life_ without _any damn help._

Anji, bless him ( _damn him)_ , did not even flinch, his voice level and polite, "Your fingers are shaking."

 "Thank you for the observation." She was growling at this point, a desire to use her teeth to assist her fingers pushing on the back of her nose. "Get dressed, we're moving to the next town."

"I _am_ dressed," He says, and she whips her head towards him to see that he speaks the truth, he even did up his top and put his shoes on, which she thinks is just adding insult to injury at this point, "I am only waiting on you."

She grinds her teeth and glares at him, grabbing her shoe and lifting it over her head, "Well _sorry_ for only having **_one fucking arm!"_**

She throws the shoe; it passes next to his cheek and hits the wall. It flops down to the ground with a pathetic thump of leather on concrete.

They stare at each other for a bit, Baiken huffing for a moment before her actions catch up with her and she slams her palm against her forehead.

Anji's eyes are soft (not with pity _never_ with pity _never Anji_ ) and he offers a small smile, "I apologize if I offended you."

She shakes her head, "No, no don't I-" She lets out a harsh breath, "I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have snapped at you."

She hazards another glance at him, he doesn't judge her when her eye meets his gaze, only waiting for her to continue.

"I fought Gears for _decades,_ " she started to mutter, barely loud enough to hear, " _killing them_ for decades, I travelled the whole world and back going against all sorts of _freaks_ and monsters," she growls, "I went toe to toe against that crazy _witch_ and **won _,_** _I should be able to tie my own damn shoelaces."_

"You _can_ tie your own shoelaces."

Her voice sounds petulant to her own ears as she barks, "Yeah, until now apparently."

Anji sighs long-sufferingly and looks at her shoe slumped against the wall, before turning back to her with a tired gaze, "Just let me help."

She looks away with a twisting scowl, reaching out her hand impatiently, "you can _help_ by getting me my damn shoe so I can tie it."

"Baiken…"

"It's three miles of gravel road between here and the next town and it _rained_ yesterday," she looks at him from the corner of her eye, "You're not going to force me to walk on a muddy gravel road _barefoot_ are you?"

"Are you _willing_ to walk on a muddy gravel road barefoot?"

She snaps her head to look at him wide eyed her jaw hanging a bit loose, "You're not fucking serious."

Anji only raised a single eyebrow and waited.

"Anji for the love of-"

"There's no shame in it." He says quietly, stopping her mid growl, "No shame in asking _me_ for help, you know that right?"

Despite herself, her face heats up marginally, she looks down on the ground as she scratched the back of her head, at a loss for what to do.

Finally she throw her hand up in defeat, "Too damn early to argue…" She looks away and waves her hand dismissively, "Just…do whatever you want."

A moment passes, she hears him walk towards her and kneel down on the floor next to her feet, she one more looks at him from the corner of her eye as he grabs her right foot and helps it into the shoe.

He handles her like an ancient blade, sharp and priceless.

"You know how to lace it?"

"I've seen you do it enough times."

"Hmm."

His hands grab the edge of the lace, working it through the holes going up the front to close it. She sees both sets of fingers hard at work, one holding things in place while the other moves the string.

"You can do it with one arm you know."

" _You_ can do it with one hand," he says pleasantly, his eyes focused on his task, "I need to use both."

Her face heats up and an urge to argue the point raises in her chest, but she brushes it aside with a sigh, letting Anji grab her second shoe and help her put it on.

Five minutes later, she's standing and moving rolling her feet back and forth, testing the tie.

"So? How is it?"

She wiggles her left foot slightly, making the sole shift a bit, "This one's loose."

Kneeling, a sound of string moving across leather, a feeling of mild tightness around her calf.

He looks up, "Better?"

She tries not to think of how this position, kneeling and looking up, makes him seem, tries to push the sound of certain words out of her head at the look he gives her, kind, faithful and adoring.

She shrugs noncommittally and starts for the door with an unhurried step, knowing Anji will stand back up and follow her without needing to look, "It's fine."

The grin he throws at the back of her head is another thing she doesn't need to see.

(A few days later they get drunk and Baiken tells him, unprovoked, to never kiss her feet. Despite her disposition, she isn't into it.

He solemnly promises to only to do so metaphorically.)


	9. Graves and Names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while huh? sorry I was distracted by life and crossover prompts, but now here's another one! And as per usual, it's kinda angsty, enjoy!

Baiken remembers very little of her parents.

She remembers their names (Kimura and Ryuko), and what they did for a living (her dad was a construction worker, her mom was a homemaker), but besides that only vague impressions of the people who raised her remained.

(The smell of fresh rice as she woke up, the sound of her mother humming in the kitchen.)

The years had been a blur of blood and hate, she could barely afford time to find a place to rest her head, much less reminisce about people she would never meet again. She can't say for sure if they were good parents, or if they were harsh. She hardly remembers their faces.

(The feeling of her father gently shaking her shoulder, the sound of his laugh when she only buried herself deeper in the covers of the futon.)

Anji, in contrast, never had any parents to forget about in the first place. Barely 11 months old and found on the steps of an orphanage. Being raised by someone who wasn't paid to do it was a novel concept for him, so he tended to ask about hers when he thought she was in a good mood.

(A large, calloused hand on her shoulder gently guiding her to the smell of rice, her mother started to sing.)

She indulged him eventually, if only to shut him up. He asked her some ordinary things and she answered from what she could remember. His joy and wonder over the tiny, bleary details of her parents was just this side of absurd. The most interesting thing she had to say about them was that her mom was, supposedly, an Enka singer for a few years before she married.

Boy did he _love_ that tidbit.

(A warm bowl in her hands, the rice slowly rousing her as she ate it, her father swaying off tune to the song with a smile.)

Eventually she ran out of answers for him, and he stopped asking. She doesn't miss them, she can't. How can she miss people she barely knows, that she barely had the _chance_ to know before it all got taken away.

(The sound of something exploding outside the house. The feeling of being knocked off her feet and the roof collapsing on top of her.

Pain. So much pain.)

She still visits their graves every year, more for tradition than anything else. Not that there's anything beneath the makeshift tombstones, no time to carry such useless things as dead bodies in the middle of the chaos, but it has their names. That should be enough. It needs to be. It's all she can give them.

(The smell of fire, the sounds of screaming, the sounds of _everyone_ screaming. She can't hear her mother singing beyond all the screaming, can't see her father dancing from behind the flames.

A monster in the sky in gleaming armor.

Hate. So much hate, building up in her chest to the point where she is sure it will burst out and split her in half.

Nothing, absolutely nothing. She can do _nothing_.

Not _yet_.)

"How can so much dirt build up in _one_ year?" Anji grumbles as he cleans soot from around her father's name on the stone, breaking her out of her reverie as she glances at him from the corner of her eye, "Doesn't this place have a groundskeeper?"

"Not for twenty years." She says lightly, glancing down at the base of her mother's gravestone before reaching out to brush a few stray leaves away. "No one left in the colonies that wants to deal with the corpses here, that generation is long dead."

"Except for us."

"…Except for us."

He traces a finger on the last name on her father's stone, carefully moving along the groves of each character.

(The first thing she threw away, she didn't need it, didn't deserve it.

Kimura and Ryuko's daughter died along with them, burnt to ashes until there was nothing left and then sank to the bottom of the ocean with the rest of their home.

 She is Baiken. That is all she will ever be.)  

Anji sighs and pats the stone gently, "I always wanted to meet you, sorry we never got the chance."

"The stones can't hear you Anij."

He looks at her from the corner of his eye, hand still on her father's marker, "the stones are all that I have to speak to." He frowns. "Soon not even that, at the state their in."

She clenches her jaw. "Stones wither away." He faces her fully now, an unspoken challenge in his gaze as she keeps her gaze on her mother's name. " _Everything_ withers away, eventually."

For a long while, he says nothing, turning away to stare at the gravestone again. A gust blows through, clearing away what was left of the dead leaves.

Eventually he sighs, and groans as he gets up on his feet. "Yes, eventually." He offers her a hand with a soft smile. "But not for a long while yet."

She looks at her mother's name for a moment more, lifting her hand to trace it on the stone, before reaching for Anji.

She doesn't look back as they walk away, her hand holding his until the horizon swallows up the stones.

(The first anniversary of their death, she stopped for a moment to wonder if they would be proud of her if they saw what she amounted to.

The day after, as she slit a man's throat open, she decided that it really didn't matter.)


	10. Pastries and Acquaintances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a sequel to chapter 5 but you don't need to read that one to get this :D
> 
> A bit silly to counter the last one, based on after story B from Rev2.
> 
> Yeah, I'm going there.

Anji loved bakeries. The smell of fresh bread and pastries always brought him a profound sense of calm and contentment, even simply browsing the various shelves and admiring the various goods and the colorful designs of the more sugary confections made a smile stretch across his face.

Illyria certainly had its fair share of quality establishments, and the market place being the first thing he and Baiken saw when they landed made that very clear. Anji had to restrain himself from showing to much excitement lest Baiken smack him upside the head.

Which was wasted effort, since he took so long staring she did it anyway, "just pick one already, the _king_ won't wait forever y'know."

Ah, yes. He almost forgot why they were there. An especially odd message had somehow found its way to them, an invite from the first King of Illyria, Ky Kiske himself. An invite for _lunch_ , of all things.

Lunch with his _family_ , of all things.

Of course, the true intention was clear from the wording of the letter, his "majesty" wanted to speak to the two of them about matters concerning the ongoing "disbanding" of the Japanese colonies.

(Baiken had spat on the ground and said something about "closing down the zoo" but otherwise seemed to take the king's intentions as the man meant them, kind and open to diplomacy…Anji hoped he wasn't expecting _Baiken_ to be diplomatic though, that would just be idiotic.)

Still, lunch was lunch, and what kind of guests would they be if they showed up with nothing to contribute? And so they went to town with a few hours to spare to grab a gift for the king and his family, Anji quickly jumped in with a suggestion of baked goods.

Baiken, who was still firmly in the camp of "not giving a shit", gave him a thumbs up and told him to pick something tasty but inexpensive to bring to the so-called "lunch."

"King or not, I ain't throwing my hard earned money away on some glittery ass cupcakes."

"That's fair."

They asked around for the best bakery with a reasonable price range, and were quickly led to a small little place a few blocks away from the hustle and bustle of the market square, place simply named "Bakery."

"Not exactly creative are they?"

Anji nudged her with an elbow and they went inside…only to be greeted by one of the most infamous hired killers on the planet…wearing a white bakers' outfit, complete with a tall hat and apron.

"Good afternoon, welcome to-"

"What the _fuck."_

"HOLY SHIT IT'S THE SAMURAI LADY!" Shouted the robot head perched on the counter, who was currently only the second strangest thing in the building, before glancing at Anji, "AND THE FAN DUDE-hey when did you start wearing shirts?"

The following few minutes were an odd mix of awkward mutterings and more than a few false starts to what could have been a very long, bloody, not to mention noisy battle that would have ended badly for everyone involved.

" _You,"_ Baiken said apropos of nothing, voice suspicious, once she could gather enough calm to speak without her sword, "are supposed to be _dead."_

The man said nothing in response, his hands moving behind to counter to do something he, or rather Anji, would probably regret. "We're not your enemies." Anji said quickly lifting one hand while using the other to block Baiken's path. "We heard of your demise during the Valentine incident years back…seeing you here is…quite strange."

Anji and the man shared a look, a glint of familiarity passing for a moment before the Venom sighed.

"I intended to die that day." Venom, and he _was_ Venom there was simply no mistaking him, ground out tightly, slowly lifting his hands from behind the counter to rest on the face of it, fingers flexing as if to grab something. "Unfortunately that choice was taken out of my hands by _this_ one."

The robot head he pointed to clenched his metal teeth with a huff of steam, " _this one_ has a name ya know."

"He saved my life, at the expense of his body, and so I have been gathering money in order to repay him his…kindness."

"You could say that with just a _little_ more conviction there buddy."

"This," Venom went on, ignoring the head, which Anji belatedly recognized as Robot-Ky, gesturing to the store, "is simply a means to achieve that." Some odd look shined in his eyes for a moment, "…and, perhaps, to find a path I wish to follow."

Anji hummed in interest, taking a few steps towards the counter, Baiken watching keenly as she remained near the door, "really? Tell me than, how _does_ a dead man find his way into owning a bakery?"

Venom narrowed his eyes at Anji, paying close attention to the smile pulling at his lips and the gleam in his eyes. "Life tends to pull us in odd directions."

"Ah, Zato then." Anji nodded sagely, inwardly grinning at the badly hidden flinch from the former assassin, "calm yourself, it's hardly a difficult connection to make, since the head of an assassin's guild should know whether someone is dead or not." He allowed himself an actual grin at the mild paling of Venom's face. "Especially one who had worked so closely with him."

Venom slammed his hands on the counter, the harsh sound reverberating around the room, " _what do you want?"_ Venom ground out between his teeth again, face drawn and grim, "if you want some information on Zato-sama you can _forget it_ so just kill me and-"

"Relax!" Baiken shouted from the door, tone casual as she shook her head, "we ain't here for that." She took her hand off the hilt of her sword and walked slowly towards the two men. "If we _were_ I'd already be walking off with your head in a bag to get payed." She stopped in front of him, Venom looking a bit at a loss, "we just came in to buy…huh."

Venom blinked at her as she stopped of a sudden, "what?"

"You took my advice."

"You got a haircut!"

Venom blinked again at Baiken's smug smirk and Anji's carefree smile, feeling all the tension draining out of the room, letting out a shaking sigh with a hand on his face, fingers threading over the pulled back hairs on the top of his head. "How can I help you, dear costumers?"

"That depends!" Anji stated cheerfully, grinning with all of his teeth and spreading his fan dramatically, "what do you suggest for a proper gift for guests invited to a family lunch?"

Venom blinked again, "that would depend on your host." He cleared his throat, "who are you visiting in Illyria exactly?"

"First King Ky Kiske."

Venom gaped at the other man for a while, before drifting his gaze to Baiken, who simply tilted her head with calm features, as if to confirm that, yes, he heard that right.

Robo-Ky's gears audibly groaned and turned in his head. "Holy crap."

(Venom had turned out to be a very good baker, and Anji was very glad to pay just a little extra for his goods.

Baiken was not so easily won over, and as they walked off from the bakery to their appointed meeting with the kind, she mentioned that they should educate him about melon bread on the way back.)


	11. Exhaustion and Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a belated birthday gift for Anji, enjoy!

"You alright back there?"

"Shut up and keep walking." Baiken huffed as she felt her weight shift by a few movements of Anji's shoulders, her chin once more finding its place in the crook of his neck as she settled. "And if you want to be my white damned steed you keep it shut."

 Anji chuckled lightly, the vibration moving from his back to her chest as she leaned on it. "I said I wanted to be your knight _on_ a white steed, though I suppose this is a good conciliation prize!"

Baiken groaned as she pressed her forehead on his neck, despairing more and more at her situation. They were currently on the way back to their inn room for the night from a particularly rough job. A group of anarchy-obsessed lunatics thought the best way to spend the last week of the year was to cause as much destruction as possible in a small merchant town, and she and Anji came to fix the problem before too many people got hurt.

Apparently, their employer thought it wise to misinform them about the strength of said lunatics, thinking he could get away with a lower price for asking them to deal with a lesser threat. One of the things he failed to mention was that, _somehow_ , the raving idiots managed to get their hands on Crusade Era war machine that still had most of its bullets.

Bullets that all _missed_ mind you, but the junk heap was still a bitch and a half to take down, Baiken taking it upon herself to do so while Anji took care of the humans trying to stop her. The result of the whole disaster was that Baiken was so exhausted and bruised she could barely move, and with nothing but an underwhelming payday to look forward to.

However, maybe not as underwhelming once Baiken had a long _conversation_ with their employer about the importance of _truthfully describing a damn job_ , of course.

Not that she would be able to do so now, so bone tired she had to swallow her pride and ask Anji to carry her on his back to their inn. Right now Baiken doubted she could threaten a half-blind rat.

So much for the New Year's Eve party Anji wanted to drag her too. Not that she mourned the so-called company, or occasion, it's just that towns like this always brought out the _good_ shit with parties like these. Merchants always had a few spare bottles of Sake handy these days. She was hoping to snag a bottle or two for the road ahead.

Not to mention that she had some…plans of her own for the morning of the New Year. She hazarded a guess that she would be in no mood to make _anyone_ happy tomorrow, utterly focused on ripping that skeevy mayor a new one for nearly getting them killed.

It was almost enough to make her feel guilty. Almost.

Guess Anji will have to-

"You keep scowling like that you'll leave a mark on the back of my neck!" Anji called out with a laugh, knocking her out of her thoughts, "and not the fun kind either!"

"Shove it." She muttered against his neck before lifting her forehead and replacing it with her chin. "Bad enough that you're carrying me like an invalid, no need for you to jabber my damn ear off."

"No shame in needing assistance Baiken." He replied easily, patting her gently where he held her thigh. "I'm just trying to make sure you don't scowl all night, its New Year's Eve!" He gestured with his head towards some of the colorful decorations strung along the streetlights on their path. "Try to enjoy the atmosphere a little!"

"Enjoy it huh?" She tutted dryly. "Like you're enjoying the feeling of my tits on your back and my thigh in your palm?"

" _Exactly!"_

She clicked her tongue at him and flicked him on the cheek from where she draped her arm over his shoulder. "Prick."

"I am to please." He answered smartly, eliciting a brief snort from Baiken as she settled on his back again, pressing her ear to him to hear the dull thuds of his steps through his shoulders. Shoulders that shifted as Anji slowed and looked to the side, Baiken following his gaze to see a cascade of flashing colors in the direction of the town square. "Looks like at least _someone_ is having fun tonight eh?"

"Yeah, a bunch of clueless assholes." She spat with a scowl. "Drinking and dancing and acting like a bunch of feckless fucking teenagers." She scoffed. "Probably had no damn idea those manic idiots were planning to plow that war machine right into them at full speed."

Anji made an agreeing hum, "good thing we skipped out on the party to put a stop to that than!"

Again, a brief stab of guilt shot through her, helped along by her exhaustion causing the memory of how Anji raved about how much _fun_ the party would be and how excited he seemed about the prospect of going to such a large gathering for the first time in months.

Instead he spent the eve of his birthday fighting a bunch of raving madmen and carrying her on his back while she bitched in his ear.

The thought made her screw up her face slightly, letting out a sigh. "Sorry we had to miss it Anji, I know you were looking forward to it."

Anji slowed for a moment, looking back at her in surprise before smiling gently and going back to his previous pace. "Don't worry about it Baiken, I was honestly just planning on gathering some blackmail on the mayor for our _payment_ _discussion_ tomorrow."

She huffed in amusement at the thought; always count on Anji to gather info while everyone else was busy getting hammered.

"Though I suppose I won't have to bother." He chuckled, patting her thigh again. "Looking at you now, I think you'll just need to glare at him for two minutes and he'll pay us _ten_ times the money he _should_ have been paying us for this job to begin with."

This time she just laughed outright, shaking with mirth as Anji no doubt grinning like a fool beneath her. "Glad to know you're taking this in stride, most people would complain about carrying someone a few miles on New Year's Eve."

"Not if that person is _you,_ Baiken." He stated cheerfully, absurdly pleased with himself. "Most people would kill to be in _my_ position." He moved his fingers along her thighs where he held in her in a way she _might_ have appreciated more if she wasn't so damned tired, another pleased chuckle bouncing in the air. "Happy Birthday to _me._ "

She flicked him on the ear with a huff, a fleeting rush of heat going through her cheeks. "Watch your _grip."_ He laughed again, Baiken outright _refusing_ to be pleased with how the vibrations of his chest going through his back felt on her aching muscles. "It's not your birthday _yet_ , asshole." She paused for a moment, remembering a suggestion he made when he saw how tired she was. "…Though, if _this_ is your idea of a birthday present, I could just let you carry me like a blushing damned bride, bet you'll get a kick out of _that_ won't you?"

"Don’t be ridiculous Baiken." He said easily, surprising her with his flippancy, voice calm and reasonable. "You know I'd never put you that kind of indignity don't you?"

Baiken felt the heat rush back to her face, stronger this time as she buried her face in his shoulder with a groan. "Dammit, why are you always so… _so…"_

"Magnanimous?"

She shook her head with a scoff, "a _pain in my ass."_  She laughed breathlessly for a bit before noticing she was having an unusually hard time keeping her eyes open, her lids weighing more and more as time wore on. "Shit…"

"Baiken? You alright?"

"Yeah yeah…" She mumbled weakly, sagging against him. "Just…falling asleep I think." She punctuated the point with jaw stretching yawn. "Man _fuck_ anarchists…don't give a shit about anybody but themselves…"  

Anji laughed again, and in her fading consciousness, it nearly made her smile. "Well if you're _that_ tired feel free to take a nap up there, I'll wake you when we-"

"Anji."

"Hmm?"

"When you get there…" She scrunched up her face to stay awake a bit longer. "When you get to our room and put me down…open the drawer on the end table…" She yawned again, leaning her head more heavily on Anji's shoulder. "Got…a surprise for you…"

The last thing she heard before she succumbed fully to sleep was Anji gaping like a fish in dismay, apparently utterly flat footed by the implication of the possibility that Baiken actually did something _nice._

She would be insulted if he didn't have a point.

 ----

"Baiken… _Baiken come on."_

Baiken only shoved her face deeper into the barely there fluff of her pillow as Anji's hissing whispers bounced off her head. Grumbling as she felt her aching bruises faintly pulsing under her clothes and her partner started nudging her shoulder.

"For _fuck's sake Anji…"_ She growled as her patience ran out and she threw her head up to glare at him. "What do you _want?"_

He completely ignored her displeasure by lifting a steel folding fan into view, "did you really buy this for me?" Baiken looked up to see Anji with a tender look in his eyes that made all the anger in her gut disappear before she could do anything with it. "This is…Baiken isn't this a bit much?"

Baiken looked at the fan for a moment before sitting up and leaning back against the wall. "Did you spread it open?"

He barked out a laugh and made a rather elaborate hand gesture to open the fan, the lights of the city catching the steel as it unfurled and revealed a design of a cloud of blue butterflies swirling on the leaves from one stick to the other. "Is this a custom design by chance? Because I don't think I've seen this modal anywhere."

"Got it a few weeks back." Baiken shrugged quietly. "Took a big chunk of my share as you'd imagine." She raised a hand to stop him when she saw him open his mouth, probably to offer to do something stupid like pay her back. " _Less than half of that fucking sake bottle you bought me though."_

He rubbed the back of his head with a nervous laugh, moving the fan between his fingers with a faraway look as a smile grew on his face. "Still a bit surprised you did this, I don't think I mentioned needing another fan, considering I have Zessen."

"Zessen is still just the one weapon." Baiken noted, pointing at his gift. "Consider this a backup, sure it can't channel Ki or blow anyone's head off…but it's steel." She gave a casual shrug. "Good steel too, sharp, you'll probably cut a neck open easily enough."

"Fashionable _and_ practical!" He called out in delight, making Baiken roll her eyes. "Who knew you were so skilled at gift giving!" He grinned with all his teeth at her, "I'll have to up my game when your birthday comes up won't I?"

She huffed and flopped back on her futon. "Don't expect me to answer in turn Anji, you'll still only get half of what you give to me."

"You act as if that's supposed to discourage me!"

Baiken resolutely ignored the heat rushing to her cheeks, _again,_ and buried her face in her pillow. "Go to sleep Anji." She heard him hum in delight, as he got ready for bed, changing into his nightclothes, closing the window, and laying down next to her.

She waited for his breathing to even out before she whispered, "happy birthday Anji", before she allowed herself to sleep.

(She spent the next morning convincing herself she gave him his present early because she would be in no mood to give it to him later and she did not intend to owe Anji a damn thing.     

 She couldn't quite manage to convince herself that she wasn't pleased at the sight of his new steel folding fan tucked into the waistband of his hakama.)


	12. Fear And Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some gore in it, not like...buckets of it or whatever but worth mentioning here. Also! I actually started on a different story for this chapter but it kinda...stalled, so I went with this one which I managed to write down...almost in one day. Nice.

Anji loves the sound of Baiken's laugh. It’s a rare pleasure, full and loud and floating out of the top of her throat and bursting from her lungs, her shoulders shaking and her hand slapping her knee. When Baiken laughs, she laughs with her entire body and soul.

She was laughing like that now, in front of him, in the dark yet illuminated, her whole form trembling with her mirth. Or, rather, her madness. As she laughs and shakes, drops of deep, dark red fall from her, every drop wipes away the shadows around them both, and every revelation is a shock of gore and savagery.

Bodies, piles and pits and hills of them stretching out into the horizon, if he lingers on a few select bodies, he thinks he recognizes them. A torn yellow ribbon, a broken monocle, a union jack bandana ripped and bloodied, a black hat held tightly in the death grip of a hideously young corpse dressed in cheerful orange.

In the middle of all that death stands the lone samurai, screaming out her victory in bloody peals of laughter. She's smiling too, grinning even, widely and brightly, and as she turns to him in her brutal cheer he can see her teeth are a pure, shining white.

There's joy there, somewhere, hidden in that one eye, beneath all that insanity, more joy than he thinks Baiken has ever shown him in all the years they've known each other. " _Look,"_ she says, pointing to her feet with her sword, the weapon gleaming and drenched in her hand. " _I've done it!"_

He looks down, sees white robes trimmed with black and topped with a hoodie, the body wrapped up in the robes is mangled and ravaged beyond all recognition, limbs twisted if not missing and bones sticking out of the many deep slashes and stabs covering it. A smoking stump is all that's left of the head.

All in all, it's about what he expected her to do to Asuka if she ever found him.

"So you did." He says, his voice finally finding him, his throat is dry and his mind is sluggish with shock at what he sees…and all that he sees in _her._ "He's…you did it."

 "They all tried to stop me." Her voice is _wrong_ , twitchy and scratchy and _giddy_ in a way only a monster could manage, and he knew a monster is the last thing Baiken would ever be. "All of them, the king and his gear queen, the monster who tried to be a man," she spits on a corpse with black, draconic wings. " _All of them, and I killed them all!"_

He rushes forward, seizes her by her shoulders and shakes her, a stab of ice cold fear going through his heart. "Baiken, look at me." She laughs at him, his worry _amusing,_ his fear _hilarious._ " _Baiken! This isn't you-!"_

 _"Isn't it?"_ She growls, yanks his arms from her and stomps away with another bloody laugh. "Blood and death is all I've _ever_ been, for the moment a monster darkened the skies of my home, that is all I will _ever_ be." She directs a chilling smile his way, her teeth sharpen in the stark shadows. "You know this is true, who knows me better than Anji Mito?" Her smile twists into a snarl. "Who would know me better, then the gnat constantly buzzing at my ear, no matter how many times I've tried to swat it?"

The glower she sends his way is unlike any annoyed glare he ever saw from her, hatred, pure and burning, stabs his lungs and it takes every scrap of strength he has to even breathe and take another step towards her. "Why?" He trembles, eyes flitting over the bodies in rapid succession (a bloodied nun habit, a broken guitar, a ripped eyepatch), ice clawing at his veins, "why would you do this? All these people…Baiken some of them-"

"Because they forgave _him!"_ She kicks the prone and mangled body of the Gear Maker, twice more before stomping on it and then wiping her foot like it was a burning bag of dog shit. "All the blood on his hands, soaking them to the _bone,_ and they just _threw it away!"_ She spits on the body again, "millions of lives, made _pointless_ because…" She breathes heavily, laughs again, but this time it is bitter and hollow, her voice calming, "because they wanted to _move on…_ to _forget…"_ She sighs, her whole body still before she slowly turns her gaze towards him again, the depth of the sorrow in it drowning him, "did you forget too Anji? Forget that night, full of rain and fire?"

" _Never."_ He hisses, finally reaching her again, gripping her shoulders with shaking hands. "I will _never_ forget that night, _my_ home burned that night along with yours, it was _our_ people that perished."

"You _allied with him."_ She accuses, once again stepping away from his reach, the anger on her face diluted with pain and betrayal, "you found the one responsible for all that death and you placed yourself at his ear, to offer _advice_." She narrows her eye at him. "Your hands are as bloody as mine and his, maybe even more." She scowls, "guilty, like all those who would pardon him."

"I left!" He shouts, voice cracking in panic, arms gesturing wildly, "I left because of you! I couldn't hurt you!"

"Bastard!" She slaps him as she screams, "what was all that bullshit about _your_ home and _our_ people!?" She slaps him again as he tries to step towards her, "stay where you are! If you remembered that night, if you cared for me as you claim, _why did you stand with him in the first place!?"_

**_"BECAUSE I WAS A COWARD!"_ **

The darkness swarms them both, once more hiding the corpses from sight and leaving him alone with her. He is breathing heavily, tears streaming down his face as he stands before her. Her face is stone, unimpressed but passing no judgment, waiting for him.

"You became death that night," he pants, putting a hand to his eyes. "I was _consumed_ by it. Every night after a miasma of burning bodies and lifeless faces that refused to go away." He laughs this time, the sound mixing with a sob in his throat, "I could not escape it, this mind numbing fear, I was willing to do anything to avoid it, to flee as far as I could from it."

She touches him of a sudden, her hand lightly brushing his cheek as she gives him a smile so gentle he dares not breathe for fear of blowing it away. "Except hurt me?" She chuckles lowly with a fond shake of her head. "Dumb bastard, that, of all things, that was your line?"

He answers with a chuckle of his own, "does that truly surprise you?"

She swipes her thumb over a trail of tears, sighing quietly before falling silent.

He brings up his hand to hold hers with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Do you still consider me guilty?"  

"Do you _deny_ that you are?"

He doesn't answer for a long while, the silence of this dark place drowning out the beat of his heart. Soon he sighs again…and shakes his head. "Never. For all the truths I've twisted, I will never lie to you."

She nods heavily, taking a few steps away, her sword appearing in her hand again. "Then you know, there's still one more grave to dig."

He lets out a shaking breath before he spreads his arms wide, opening up his heart to her with a laugh and an easy smile. "I am, as always, yours." The smile falters when she shakes her head. "Baiken?"

"No Anji." She says softly, sadly, lifting the blade in the air. "Not your grave."

Terror, deeper than anything than he ever felt for the shadow of Justice, struck his heart and drove the air out of his lungs, " _no…"_

"When one seeks revenge," she intones lightly, gaze passive to the horrid agony and fear Anji must be showing. "One must dig two graves." Her smile grows a bit, a mockery of the smile she would give him in private, when only Anji and the shadows could see her. "The Gear Makers' grave is dug."

His feet are rooted, he cannot move. " _No."_ He searches for Zessen, but they are gone. " _No!"_

"The only grave left is…"

" _Baiken!"_

The sword flips, its edge pointed directly at her heart.

_"Mine."_

 He bolts awake, sweat soaking his sleepwear to the point it sticks to his skin, heart pounding on his ribcage hard enough to make him flinch in pain. His twitches left and right almost on animal instinct, desperation to find a shock of pink hair in a darkened corner of the…the…oh.

Inn room. They're at an inn. He and Baiken both, they went to sleep, and then the-

"Anji?" His eyes snap to the sound, he sees Baiken slowly drag herself out of the covers, her clothes loose around her shoulders as she blinks up at him in mixed confusion and drowsy annoyance, "what happ-" She stops as she looks at him, her shoulders sagging as an odd look crosses her face.

"Sorry." He chokes out in a dry voice, clearing his throat, "didn't mean to wake you, go back to sleep I'll-" He stops short as she places a hand on his cheek, the gentle touch brings a spine freezing echo of the dream, and he nearly bolts before he can stop himself. "I-"

"Hush." She says simply, her gaze searching, focused, considering him for a long moment. He only realizes he'd been crying when she, again like the dream, brushes her thumb to wipe one tear away. "You were tossing and turning before you sat up…what was it about?"

Anji almost laughs over the fact that she didn't even need to _ask_ why he awoke like he did, but all he manages is a strangled noise in the back of his throat. "Nothing I'm not used to."

A flat gaze falls on him, and this time he _does_ bark out a quick laugh, her scarred eyebrow lifting a couple inches, "you need to get better at lying."

"To you?" He chuckles, inwardly wondering when his dream would content itself to stay in his head. "Never."

She pinches his cheek for a quick and painful moment before shaking her head and getting up from the futon, groaning as she did and making her way to a cupboard. He's still busy rubbing the feeling back into his cheek when she sits back down with her sake gourd in her hand and shoves it into his chest. He fumbles with it for a moment before he grabs it firmly in both hands.

"What?" He looks between the gourd and the samurai, who was resting her face on the heel of her palm as she was watching him. "This-you don't need to-"

"You're not going back to sleep." She says simply, no room for question in her tone. "So neither am I." She pokes the bottom of the gourd with a foot. "Now, drink." Her gaze softens mildly as she sees him wiping what was left of his tears. "We don't have to talk, if you don't have anything you want me to hear."

He stares into the mouth of the gourd for a long moment, watching the liquid inside by the moonlight reflecting on it, before he takes a deep breath and lifts it to his lips for an even longer gulp.

He hands it back to her when he finishes, and she matches his gulp with one of her own.

"Baiken." He says of a sudden, the samurai looking at him from the corner of her eye as she hands him back the gourd. "Was there ever a time…" He takes another deep breath, willing for the alcohol to numb his nerves. "Did you ever wish…to burn the world down, for what happened to you? To all of us?"

She looks out the window, the light of the moon bringing all the various scars on her face into sharp relief and shining in her eye. "Once." She said after a long pause, still not looking at him. "There was a time, a few years back, when I was close to just…throwing the whole world away, ready to bring my blade down on anyone who would dare cross my path."

He takes another long sip of sake, a pit forming in his gut as he scowls morosely…before she continues.

"Like I said though, once, was, past tense." She waves the thought off like a pesky fly at her ear. "Something changed my mind and the possibility never came to me after that."

"Something?" He says incredulously, the late hour dulling his thoughts along with the alcohol. "What do you mean by _something?"_

She finally turns to face him, her eyebrow once more climbing up a few inches as she leveled a blank look at him.

It takes another heavy moment for her answer to sink in properly into his addled mind, and a fierce burning red fills his face when it does. "…oh."

She snatches the gourd from his limp hands, hiding her smile as she took another large gulp. "Idiot."

They spend the rest of the night like this, trading sips of sake between them until the gourd is empty. 

They let it settle in their stomachs while they watch the moon decend and the sky bleed orange as the sun slowly rose. 

Anji wanted to say something more, to tell her of his fear, of his guilt of betraying his people, betraying her. 

Whenever the thought seemed poised to jump out of his throat, Baiken would squeeze his hand in hers, and he could find no reason to speak. 

As the sun floated off the ground, Anji laid his head on her shoulder, and drifted off. 

He would need to ask her, one day, if she thought him guilty. 

(Either answer felt like a nightmare in and of itself. But he would put himself at her mercy, as always. 

He owes her that much.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the XX games one of Baiken's arcade ending had her kill I-no (yeah like straight up kill her it's kinda cool) and then go on a murder spree just, killing everyone she runs across. 
> 
> Another ending in those games has her running into Anji and them just...hanging out. This is apparently the Canon ending, or the closest to it. 
> 
> So this fic basically mixes those two ending :D


End file.
